


residual fondness

by eternities (incendiarism)



Series: free falling [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Na Jaemin-centric, M/M, Mentioned Huang Ren Jun, Multi, Time Skips, Unreliable Narrator, donghyuck as summer, jaemin as autumn, nahyuck nation rise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-24 00:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incendiarism/pseuds/eternities
Summary: Blood and saliva stained at the edges of his mouth, hands cold and shaky. Anxiety pulses up Donghyuck’s throat, a feeling akin to bile, as he looks at what’s been made of Spring.Donghyuck is always too late.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Na Jaemin
Series: free falling [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537621
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	residual fondness

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello i'm back with this au because it's the only one i know how to write apparently! i don't think it's absolutely necessary to read the first work in the series before this, but it would be highly recommended as it serves as a sort of a general overview of the characters to this world. anyways thank you for clicking! please enjoy!

Jaemin, Donghyuck thinks, is a virus. Jaemin is poison, sickly sweet, nearly undetectable until it’s too late. And once more, Donghyuck is too late. Donghyuck is always too late.

Jeno sits in front of him, eyes wide and unfocused and the tell-tale marks of Jaemin’s work smeared all over him. Blood and saliva stained at the edges of his mouth, hands cold and shaky. Anxiety pulses up Donghyuck’s throat, a feeling akin to bile, as he looks at what’s been made of Spring. Spring isn’t supposed to be like this, Spring was made to be magnificent, draped in the glory of his own power. Spring is what grounds him, keeps him tethered in the presence of Autumn and Winter. Spring is his anchor point, and Jaemin knows it. Jaemin, Jaemin has always been too good at reading people.

The Summer king rakes his hand through Spring’s hair, comforting him. Asks him what happened, even though he already knows the answer. Jeno smiles softly.

“Autumn, of course. What else could it have been?” 

Poison.

— 

Donghyuck senses his presence before he sees him: Jaemin and his love of dramatics. He strides leisurely through the forest, trailing flourishes of burgundy and brown behind him. Almost subconsciously, Donghyuck’s arms wrap around himself defensively, protecting himself in anticipation of the fast approaching cold front.

Jaemin reaches a standstill in front of him and grins, impish and unbothered, as he speaks. “Summer, darling. Why the long face? Is something wrong?” He carries himself with the confidence of someone who’s playing a game that they’ve already won. Regal. Untouchable.

Donghyuck feels his fingers twitch. “You know, you could’ve left Jeno out of this. Could’ve just gone directly for me and left him out of this.”

But Jaemin’s smile only grows wider at his remark. “Perhaps I could have, perhaps I couldn’t have. But anyway you spin it, it’s more fun this way.” Jaemin, pauses, and then adds almost as an afterthought, “and it’s not like he’ll die or anything. I love our dear Spring far too much for that to happen to him.”

Donghyuck doesn’t doubt that—Jaemin lies but not about things like this—but something inside of him rages at his nonchalance. Something instinctual and bloodthirsty, begging to be released and to burn Jaemin alive where he stands. It hammers against his rib-cage, replaces the steadiness of his heartbeat with erratic thrumming, slowly claws his way out of him. His mind kicks into high alert, adrenaline shooting through him, screaming at him to move, but Jaemin is faster, as he presses in close to Donghyuck and places a hand on his cheek, halting him in his tracks. 

Donghyuck feels every muscle in his body tense, brought on by danger slapping him in the face. They stare at each other in silence as Autumn regards Summer for a moment, suddenly serious. “I swear I’m sorry for this. You won’t believe me, and that’s ok, but this is for the best,” he says, traces of regret buried somewhere in his voice, and Donghyuck wants to respond, but he’s frozen, deadlocked in Autumn’s grasp.

Jaemin leans in slowly and kisses him full on the mouth. Donghyuck can taste the venom laced into the kiss on his tongue already as teeth sink into his lips, hellbent on infection. Can feel his traitor heart already dutifully pumping the illness through his veins. His mind shrieks in alarm, but his body is still hardwired to respond to Jaemin—might always be—and he automatically diffuses into the kiss. He’s a slave to habit, he's ashamed to say, and distantly he finds some distorted tinge of nostalgia washing over him, reminiscing about what used to be.

Jaemin pulls away and wipes at the corners of Donghyuck’s mouth with his fingers. If Donghyuck were to close his eyes here, indulge in his own delusions, he can convince himself that Jaemin’s touch is soft, caring. Ghost implications of the past, residual fondness. He lets himself let go, lets himself have this fleeting moment, takes comfort in lingering fingertips before they lift delicately. Jaemin pauses, hands still hovering over Donghyuck’s face. And then Jaemin leaves, the wilting monarch falling behind him.

— 

Ruling with an expiration date, Donghyuck finds, is quite a paradigm shift. It’s a constant awareness that presses into him, coats his mind with a thin veneer of paranoia, it's a ticking timer always reminding him that all of his actions can be reversed, will be reversed. In a moment of quiet vulnerability, the kind that he takes care to hide, he'll admit that it drives him crazy, having the permanent threat of imminent rebellion dragging after him—fighting a losing battle, playing Sisyphus with his throne. Donghyuck wonders sometimes just how strong Jaemin's venom is, wonders if his onset mania is some sort of twisted side-effect. If he were any less of a man, he might give up, but Summer wasn’t built for surrender. Summer would work himself to the grave if he had to.

So here he is again, rising for his annual confrontation; Jaemin stands in front of him once more, eyes predatory and mouth sharp, deja vu to the first time all those cycles ago. This year, it’s Donghyuck who moves first, lunging forward and immediately grabbing ahold of Jaemin’s wrists, restraining his hands and cutting off his power as quickly as he can. 

Jaemin, however, is languid, relaxed—unflinching despite his direct contact with Donghyuck’s fury. “As much as I enjoy these little appointments, I hope you know that it’s futile,” he says, voice smooth and sweet. Donghyuck’s response is to tighten his hold, but Jaemin twists his hands in an impossible direction and slips away from him, only to return and curl his hands around Donghyuck’s neck. Pulsepoint. 

“You can struggle all you want. But this is the way things are now, this is the way it will always be.”

“Things are this way because of you! You’re the one who did this to all of us!”

Jaemin’s gaze turns icy, light leaking out at his words. Donghyuck can feel the clutch around his throat tighten, cold seeping in and spreading through his body. “Yes, and look at how much better it is like this. How much more freedom we have while in power, how we’re no longer forced to share a crown meant for one between all of us.” 

It’s coming now, the deathblow, he knows. “Fuck you.”

“I’m happier now, Renjun is too. Jeno’s always happy. You’re the only one who fights it, love.”

He grins, grotesque and lovely—devoid of any pure happiness, face painted in the dying light of the setting sun. “But this is inevitable, my dear. You can’t escape it, no matter how much you struggle.” Fingernails dig into the skin on the back of Donghyuck’s neck, pressing him closer and closer to his doom. “Even if you defeat me now, I’ll always be back eventually.” Donghyuck is paralyzed. 

“Goodnight Summer. Sweet dreams.”

One clean strike, and Donghyuck sees his vision start to fragment, Jaemin’s face splintering apart in front of him. Ice cascading down his spine, pin-pricking across his chest. Dying flames, dying fire. A soft, steady demise.

Poison. 

**Author's Note:**

> ahhaha yeah so apparently i'm only decent at cranking out 1k one-shots and can't do longer ones with a consistent plot,,,but nonetheless, here i am:
> 
> \- please please leave thoughts/criticisms if you have any in the comments, i'm always open to (gentle) feedback  
\- or here's my [twitter](https://twitter.com/nanodarlings) feel free to talk to me there too (though warning i still don't understand twitter etiquette)  
\- unbetaed we die like men  
\- i'm aware that dialogue is one of my greatest weaknesses *but* i'll never improve if i don't practice so just bear with me here  
\- um. honestly there's a lot i'm not super happy with, but i've reached the point where i've stared at my own work for so long that everything starts devolving! and nothing looks right anymore! so I'm posting this before it gets even Worse and I chicken out adfjhdhj
> 
> rambling aside, thank you for reading once more! i appreciate you!


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